Today is the day that Japan declared the unconditional surrender in the World War II.
People in Japan were told that through the Emperor’s speech in the radio, which was not from a personal device (at that tome most of them had lost their properties,) but a broadcasting speaker in the park or schoolyard, huddling around it together.
They listened to the announcement down on their knees on the burnt soil, among debris, under the bright summer sky.
Some people, I believe quite a few, who were just children when they met the day as long as 70 years ago, now tell that they had almost no idea what happened at that time.
I figured a boy at that time, out of their stories.
The boy was standing among the people crouching on the ground, wondering in everything.
What was spoken on the noisy speaker? Why Mom and Grandma are weeping?
Why there’s no bombardment today?
No, there were no bombardment, alarms, angry voices of officers – the silence gradually let a boy know that the war had ended. He needed not be terrified any more.
At the same time he knew his people had lost, which prevented him from laughing or crying for relieve.
So he kept standing, looking up at the blue sky, with a weak smile on his face.
Mom, who was weeping herself, did not force him to sit down or cry with her.